Why Gambling and Sunflowers Ruined My Life
by wonderpasta
Summary: When it was the last week of school, Skyler Thomas' dream of going to Russia was crushed after a horrible incident involving Poker and a certain red-eyed ex-country. Now, she'll be staying at a strange Russian man's house all for the most of summer instead, and she's not happy about it. I don't own Hetalia, but I do own the OC's in this story. Originally on Wattpad.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfiction, so hopefully you will like this! Please tell me if there's anything wrong, so I can learn. I know it's long and it takes a while for any plot, I'm sorry!**

I know no one's heard of me, so I should probably tell you that my name's Skyler Thomas. I'm pretty unspectacular. My hair's ginger, and they barely reach my shoulders. My eyes are mossy green, but it's not like it's beautifully green. It's like a more washed out version of my mother's emerald eyes. I have a pretty petite frame, but I'm really good at softball. See? Nothing special. In fact, the only thing that's really cool about me is that I'm going to go to Russia twice. Once, it'll be to visit, and the second time is when I'll live there to become a physical therapist.

As I was walking back home with my friend Thomas, I mentioned my plans to him.

"Are you sure your mom isn't going to steal your money and gamble with it this time?" He asked.

"Of course not! I'm paying for her to come too!" I exclaimed.

He still looked unconvinced, that dirty-blonde haired nerd. "I don't know. My brother once gambled my parents wedding rings away, because he thought he had a streak of good luck," he said lowly.

"She wouldn't do that. She knows how much this means to me."

"I hope so, Skylar. See you tomorrow!" he waved goodbye, as we parted ways. All the rest of the walk home, I only had my thoughts to talk to. Something that Thomas said bothered me. Would Mom really gamble my money away? Lately, she's been giving me these awfully guilty looks, like I'm some animal she accidentally ran over with a truck. She's been coming home in those waning hours of the morning, too. Was she really working overtime I'd be lying to myself if I said Mom had never gambled in her life, but it was a big bite to chew on to think that she'd betray me like that. _Especially_ when I'm the one buying the ticket.

It could of been my imagination, but I thought I had heard a voice at the time. A quiet, raspy voice that whispered to me, '**_It's not really that hard to imagine someone betraying your dreams.'_**

Mom smiled at me when I walked inside my house. "It's Youth Group tonight!" she said cheerfully. The atmosphere was so cheerful and nice that I could almost forget my feelings of doubt.

"I don't think I can come tonight. I was thinking about hanging out with some friends, actually," I replied as I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from the jar.

"Oh, honey. You should come. It's your last meeting of the school year!" she insisted.

"Alright, I guess." I sighed and reached for my phone. Usually, on last meetings we usually just play kickball, anyway. 

"Alright, guys. Before we go play kickball, are there any prayer requests?" my pastor boomed in his loud, _loud _voice, making me wince. A small cluster of kids raised their hands, including me.

The big man picked on the black haired boy beside me, Harris. "My sister's cat's givin' birth soon," he said colly. As I stared at him, I took note of his dark brown eyes and olive skin. He laid out on the metal chair with crossed legs askew. On anyone else, it would've looked incedibly uncomfortable, but he made it look so easy and relaxing. Ignoring my pastor's ill-attempted short-talk with him, I studied his amazing black hair. Gosh, Harris was so cool. He's was so cool that he could probably make a lava flow an ice burg.

In fact, his coolness was so mesmorizing that I didn't even notice Pastor was waiting for what my prayer request was. A light pat from the girl behind me was what brought me back to Earth, where I was greeted by the disapproving gaze of my Pastor. "Oh!" I nervously stammered, "Uh, well... Pray for my trip to Russia, I guess..."

My pastor's face lit up, and he boomed cheerfully, "Oh, yeah! Of course, you've been working hard for that."

I felt my face flush red from the attention as I nodded nervously. He got the que and moved onto the next person's request.

Kickball was never my strongest sport. I mean, I'm a pitcher, not a kicker. Of course, I played the game. I'm not a wimp, like some of the more popular girls stringing along the edge of the field are. However, let me just say that I was more than relieved when the pastor called us back into the church for ending prayer. Everyone buzzed around, as we were all anxious to get out of the church and go home. Tired from the two whole hours of kickball, I flopped into the car with a heavy sigh.

"Looks like you had fun," Mom smiled.

I groaned and looked up at the mini-van ceiling. The car roared as we drove off the parking lot and into the interstate.

"What? It wasn't?" Mom asked, surprised.

"It was alright, but I'm glad it's over." I sighed.

The sigh was returned, and Mom shrugged, "Fine, what else did you do?"

"Nothing. Stop asking questions," I said, a bit irritated. Suddenly, it struck me that right now was the _perfect _moment to see if Mom's been secretly gambling off my travel money.

"I simply cannot wait for visiting Russia with you," I said as innocently as I could. It sounded utterly fake, so I hoped Mom didn't notice.

Just for a split second, my mom winced. "Y-yeah.." she muttered unenthusiastically.

My distrust was rising like a cold thermometer placed in a boiling pot of water. "I bet Papa's really proud of us," I sweetly said.

"Yes, I think so too," she said sadly and softly, "He would of been so proud that you're finally granting that goal of his."

Uh oh. That wasn't the reaction I was expecting. "He would be devastated if something happened and I couldn't  
go..." I tried again.

"What are you saying?" Mom slowly asked. A traffic light turned red, so she took her eyes off the road and stared at me.

"I'm saying, it would be a _total_ travesty if something happened and _you gambled all my travel money away_," I growled.

The light turned green, and she drove off a little too fast as she gasped, "Oh, _honey! _You know I could never do that! This means too much to you!"  
"Really? How come you've been coming home at 3 o'clock in the morning? Come on, we _all _know that you aren't really working overtime." I said with a small sneer.  
Mom twisted her lips into a frown. "Alright, I've been going with some friends to a club downtown," she admitted, "But I haven't gambled at all!"

**_'Liar.'_**

"How long has this been going on?!" I demanded.

"I've been doing going there for a month, once every two weeks. Honey, I only go as the designated driver. You know Lila has horrible luck, and I want to make sure that she doesn't get in a wreck drunk,' she said softly, and lowered her piercing emerald eyes to the dusty dashboard.

I could feel my own eyes widen. I guess I never really thought about Mom going to clubs for her friends, rather than herself. "Then why do you act so nervous when I bring up the trip?!" I demanded, after flashes of her suspiously guily behavior came to my mind.

To my surprise, her whole face turned beet red. "I'm afraid of planes, and bringing Russia up keeps reminding me of all those hours we'll be up in the air," she admitted quietly.

"Planes?" I exclaimed, "How come I never know about that?!"

Already, we were in the driveway. She turned to me, and said, "You seemed so excited, and I don't want to spoil that. I was planning on taking sleeping pills for the ride anyway."

"Sorry..." I whimpered.

Inside the house, the voice suddenly returned.

**'****_You're such a Mommy's girl,'_**the voice in my head whispered.

_"She's always been kind to me, though," _I thought back to it, _"Even after Papa's accident, she was always strong for me."_

**_'I wouldn't be so sure she's strong, child. You're just_**** weak****_. It wouldn't surprise me when _****someone ****_out there ruins your plans, because you were too weak.'_**

Hello! This is my first fanfiction on here, so hopefully it goes well. There's no Hetalia in here yeeet, but it's coming soon! Very, very soon! I just wanted to let everyone get to know the characters a bit. I'm kind of a long writer, I'm sorry. I hope you liked this, and don't forget to vote and comment!


	2. Chapter 2

There was only 8 days left of school before summer break, which was rather exciting and sad in it's own way.

"I'm glad that it turned out fine," Thomas said meekly as we were walking home from school. For some reason, how short he was suddenly became apparent. I guess I never noticed, since we don't talk outside of school.

"Yeah," I chirped as I grabbed his head and rubbed it, "You made me worry for nothing!"

"S-sorry..." he stammered. His face started to show hints of pink.

"Aw, look, you're blushing~" I teased, and his blush turned into a new shade of scarlet.

"Sorry..." he repeated. His dirty-blonde hair got messed up from me rubbing it, and I realized I saw that the freckles on his face was made more prominent whenever he blushed. It was cute for a little kid, but now it just made him nerdy.

**_'He's weak, too. You'd make a good match_**_,'_ the voice sang.

"Shut up," I said angrily out loud. I didn't realize it until I glanced at Thomas and saw his shocked pale face. It was so embarrassing to explain I wasn't talking to him at all! All day long, that darn voice's been rambling in my ear. The worst part? If I tell anyone about it, they'll think I was insane!

Then, I noticed a little button on his backpack. It was of one those anime people, except this one was an albino one. He had a thumbs-up and black words saying "I'm awesome!" glittered above the character. Even stranger, a rubber duck thing balanced on its head. "Hey, what's this?" I asked curiously.

"What?" He looked at his backpack, where I was gesturing my finger towards the albino anime character button. "Oh," he said, still beet red from blushing, "That's a TV show I like to watch."

"Really? Isn't that, like, that anime stuff?"

His navy blue eyes glanced downcast nervously, as he replied, "Well, yeah... It's a funny show- I liked it. It's about these people personifying countries."

"That's weird. Who's that?" I replied.

For the first time that I saw him today, he smiled. "Why don't you find out for yourself? It's on Netflix, you should watch it. It's called Hetalia."

"I'm not going to watch it," I sighed as we got to where our paths split off, "See ya."

While he walked down his side of the street and waved goodbye, I walked down mine. 

A loud _slam! _woke me up. Groggily, I raised my arm and cracked my hand against my alarm clock. It took me a minute to remember that my clock rings, not slams. My eyelid cracked open to look at the time. It was 5:09. That means I had 51 minutes to sleep, and I wanted to get back to it as fast as I can.

_"SKYLER!" _my mother shrieked. I grabbed my black pillow above my head to block out her screeching noise.

"Skylar! This is important!" she shrieked again.

_'Eh, I'll talk to her later,"_ I thought, but noo, she just _had _to continue to yell at me.

All of the sudden, bright lights of my bedroom lamp illuminated the room, and rough hands shook me agressively. My mother frantically cried, "This isn't a joke, I'm sorry! Get up!"

"Did someone die?" I grumbled, but my heart was slowly sinking. It was hard to think of times when Mom forced me to wake up so early.

Even though I was still drowsy, I could still see her green eyes burning with adrenaline and desperation. "It's about your trip to Russia. Something happened," she said slowly.

_"What?!" _I cried. My heart promptly dropped, and my stomache turned sour.

**_'Told you,'_**the voice, which I've come around to calling Kevin, began to laugh. It's terrifying having a disembodied voice laugh in your head, just in case you never had the experience.

"It's a long story," Mom said in that slow voice. My insides suddenly felt empty; she never used that voice unless something really, really bad happened. Like when Dad had to go to the hospital for heart surgery.

"W-what happened?" I stammered nervously.

"Well, Lila asked me to play Poker with her, and so I agreed. I didn't use much on my own money, but I still won against this man. He didn't take it well, and kept insisted there was a fluke. I got tired of it and told Lila that we were leaving," she started to explain, "After I dropped her off, I went to the bank. I... I wanted to put the money I had won in your account, since you're paying for my ticket and I felt bad. The thing is that the man I had beat was behind me, and he stolen your debit card. I don't know how he did it, but he found out your PIN and the sign in. He stole all the money,"

"So you just _let _him steal thousands of dollars?!" I hissed angrily.

She flinched, like I slapped her in the face. "Of course not! I tried to reason with him, but he just said he was too awesome for that and sped off!" she assured me, "I was at the police station for 4 hours."

"Do you think they'll catch him?" I whimpered, and tried to swallow the lump of disbelief that was forming in my throat.

"Oh, I hope so, honey," she said as she stroked my hair, "I got a pretty good look of the guy, because he stood out. He was an albino man; that means he had red eyes and very blonde hair. Compared to everyone else, he was so white he could've passed for the sun!" she gave a short laugh, "I told the police that he seemed to be rather conceited, and kept saying he was awesome, and he had a German accent."

"Was he drunk?" I asked.

_'He's albino?' _I thought, and a strange case of _de ja vu_ crept onto me.

"He may of been. He smelled like beer, but he didn't look intoxicated or anything. I'm going to make some calls," she answered, and nervously walked out the door. When she got to the doorframe, she paused to turn and look at me. "I'm sorry, Skylar. This is all my fault, and I wish I could of helped you," she added quietly.

I threw off my covers, and headed for the bathroom. There's no way I could go back asleep now, so I might as well get ready for school. My mind was swirling with anger, and disbelief.

_'How can this be happening? Everything was so perfectly thought out!'_

_'It's all her fault. She probably won't even try to get it back.'_

_'Well, there isn't a lot of albino people around. Maybe they'll catch him.' _The same feeling of _de ja vu _returned to me. Did I dream about an albino man stealing my funds, or something?

HOORAY! It's finally done! What did you think? I felt this one was short, but oh well. I based the reactions to Hetalia on my friends' reactions, and I based the "white jokes" off of my brother. He's really pale.

I won't mention this, but the way he "somehow" found out the PIN and sign-in was because her dear Mother had a slip of paper with it written down.

Alright! I hope you enjoyed!


	3. Chapter 3

chool was a disaster. All day long, I worried about my bank account. Did they find him yet? Will they ever find him? The whole situation made me want to sob.

I couldn't wait for when the bell rang, marking 7 days left of school to 6. Imagine, only a day ago I would of still been able to go to Russia...

As faithful as always, Thomas was waiting for me outside the school door. Quite honestly, I didn't want to deal with his shy self today. There was too much on my mind, even without Kevin.

"Are you okay? Someone said something happened this morning." he asked me.

I took a huge breath, and grumbled, "Looks like I'm not going to Russia."

"Really? What happened?!" he gasped, his shock clearly evident in his voice.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Oh, okay. You don't have to if you don't want to."

Actually, I did want somebody to talk to. "Well," I began, "Some albino guy stole all my money when my mom went to the bank."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"The guy didn't even listen to her. He just told her he was too awesome to do that!"

Surprisingly, Thomas didn't speak for a while. Finally, he asked very suspiciously, "And you said he was albino?"

"Yeah!"

"What is this, some kind of joke? There are other ways to tell me you watched that show," he sneered.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I said defensively, "It's not a joke! Do you know this guy?"

Thomas' eyes grew wide. "You really didn't watch Hetalia?" he asked.

"We don't even have internet access at my house. Or Netflix."

"Oh. Well, sorry," he stammered, "Your thief guy sounds like, uh, that guy on my backpack."

"That's great to know. Anyway, the police are looking for him. I think he was drunk. Mom said he smelled like beer."

"Beer. Are you sure you aren't messing with me?" he repeated. "It sounds a lot like Prussia to me, it's that guy on my backpack button. He's albino, thinks he's really awesome and likes beer."

"I wouldn't kid about this, and that's just a coincidence. Come on, you should come over and study for finals," I suggested.

"Alright," he agreed, and pulled out his smart phone, "let me call dad and let him know."

-  
"Alright, try solving that one," Thomas said. On the paper in front of me was of a circle with a triangle that Thomas drew. The equation above it said cos x = 1/2. Trigonometry was not one of my better subjects.

"I don't remember learning about this," I told him plainly as I stared at the paper.

"That's because you sleep half the time while she's teaching!" Thomas replied cheekily, and gave me a shrewd glance.

Right as I was going to playfully punch him on the shoulder, someone knocked the door. The urgency of the knock was so powerful that I was sure that the door outside would have a thin crack where the fist and door met. Poor Thomas jumped out of his skin it was so sudden. "Alright, I'll go get the door," I sighed.

Outside the door, there was two men in military-esq uniforms. They both looked similar enough to be siblings, but the man in the green uniform had slicked back clonde hair, and icy blue optics. He looked to be a very no-nonsense, stern man. Beside him, an albino man with white hair and mocking vermilion eyes grinned at me with a scoffing smile.

"Oh my gosh," Thomas sounded so astounded that it was all he could to choke and spit out those three words of shock. Navy-blue eyes bugged out of his sockets from the consternation, as his lower jaw hung limply like it was dislocated. In fact, his expression was a perfect mixture of both a deer caught in headlights and a fish.

A few moments of staring later, the gruff blonde man finally spoke. "Is your mozar here? I need to speak wiz her," he asked in a thickly coated german accent. Beside me, Thomas squeeked.

"Y-yeah," I answered wholeheartedly, and pointed towards upstairs, "She's upstairs in her room,"

"Zank you," he said under his breathe, then he turned to the albino and instructed, "P...Gilbert, you stay here."

"Vhat?! But you totally need my awesome self wiz vou!" protested Gilbert in an equally thick accent.

In response, the German man pinched the bridge of his nose and growled, "Vou aren't good at admitting mistakes, it's better that I talk to her instead. Plus vou don't even like to talk about _him._"

For a moment, Gilbert just stared at him. "Fine, vou do that. It's more fun down here anyvay," he said snidely, as if he was here before and knew _all _about the joys and wonders of trigonomentry.

Only a grunt for a reply escaped the man as he stomped upstairs. Just then, it occurred to me that I had possibly let in two serial killers in my house. That creep is probably gagging her right now. The guy I assumed was Gilbert leaned on the door frame, staring at the chipped white paint on it.

Suddenly, Thomas leaned in towards me. "D-do you think that's the guy? The guy that stole your money?" he asked in a low whisper.

"He probably is," I growled, the sweat and anger inside me boiling. "I should kick him in the face."

"There's another thing," Thomas added shakily, "I think it's the same guy as the one on my button."

**_"Took long enough."_**

"Who?" I asked.

It took a long enough for Thomas to speak, as if he was afraid to utter a single word. Maybe he _was_ afraid to. "Prussia. That's Prussia, and the other guy is Germany. It has to be, no one would be in such good cosplay and just prance around. Don't kick them, they could hurt us if they wanted to."

"Did I hear zee awesome Prussia being spoken ov?" Gilbert perked up immediately. When he got no answer, a loud sigh escaped out of him. "Vhat? Is my awesomeness so entrancing even vou cannot help but be amazed ov the sheer vastness of it?"

Despite wanting to interrogate the living bejesus out of him, I decided that he'd probably reveal that himself.

Clearly Thomas was thinking something else entirely. Uncharacteristically bravely, he stood up on the couch and flung his pointer finger at him. "Did you steal my friend's Russia money?!" he demanded. For a few moments, he stood there until the realization of what he did hit him like a train and he crumpled to the couch cushion weakly.

Right away, Gilbert's face crinkled into a mocking grin. "Kesesese~ zat is zee reason West and I came over here."

"You dog!" I bitterly screamed.

"Kesesesese! No, I am too awesome to care vhat you call me," he grinned, "Plus, West and I will explain everything later."

Afterwords, my mother bolted downstairs, and slapped Gilbert. "My awesome face has been attacked!" he cried. Even though I wanted to hate him, I couldn't help but try and stiffle a giggle into my sweater sleeve.

"West" turned to look at me. "I'm sorry about him," he said, "He didn't know that it was your money. He figured it vas an American credit card, and he vanted to pay something off."

"Clearly it's not," I began to snarl, but it died off when Mom shot me a _"shut-up-before-I-ground-you" _look.

"Anyvay, ve wanted to make it up for it, and so I spoke to a... representative of Russia. He agreed to let you stay with him." West finished.

"Dude, that's what horror movies are made of," Thomas whispered in my ear.

_'He's right,' _I flinched at the thought. Surely my mom didn't agree with this?

"And of course, ze awesome Prussia will accompany you on ze plane ride as a safety precaution," Gilbert added, and as he was about to say something else, West elbowed him in the stomach. "Urf.." he groaned.

"Apparently they're representatives too," Mom said, "I decided that you'll go ahead and go."

"And you trust them?!" I cried out. I didn't want to believe any of this! She's _actually _going along with this?

"There was a video Ludwig showed me, it was of the President of Russia allowing for the representative to let you stay for the summer," Mom said through angry grit teeth.

"Ludwig?!"

"I'm Ludwig. It was recorded for proof that you could trust us," "West" said. I guess his real name was Ludwig; I was thinking that West was a pretty odd name for somebody like him..

"Let me see," I said, and she tossed the iPhone at me. I pressed play, and sure enough, there was that stoic man on the brightly-light screen. The features were so spot on that there was no way that it could of been a fake, but I still couldn't let go of my feelings of distrust.

"Mrs. Thomas, are you going too?" Thomas asked.

"No, I don't think it would be right for me to go at this point." Mom said. When she said this, my eyes grew wide as I realized that I was going to be alone with somebody I never met. Those two jerkwads really had ruined my entire trip! Nothing ever, _ever _ turned out right for me anymore! Even now, something just had to screw it up!

Right when I was about to protest, plead that she _had _to come, Thomas spoke up again. "In t-that case, would you two please see if someone she knows could go with her? Like, if there's nobody that could, maybe I should go with her?" he grew even more pale faced with every word he stammered.

For a while, Ludwig was silent. "It's a good idea, but I doubt it vould vork. I'll try. Skyler, vhen does your school end?" he asked.

"In 6 days."

"Ve'll be back in 8; be ready. Goodbye." he said, and followed Gilbert out of the door. Like it was some goodbye, the door was slammed shut such force that the whole house shook. The silence was so thick, yet the buzz in the air was vibrating loudly with anxious thoughts.

I, however, was only thinking one thing. _'What the heck?'_

**_WOOOO! IT'S DONE! CHAP 4, EVERYBODY!_**

**I found it hilarious that I was listening to "Like an American," by Lana Del Rey while typing this. See, things are getting a bit riled up! I mean, I tried to make it as realistic as I could, but considering that I never had Germany and Prussia randomly show up my house and tell me I'm going to Russia it was kind of hard XD**

**HOT HOLY DANG THIS IS LONG! Sorry! =_="**


	4. Chapter 4

3 days later, the blonde man called. He told me that Thomas was allowed to go on the plane, but he had to be over 18 to be considered a guardian. Unfortunately, both Thomas and I were both 16, but the blonde man told me he could make an exception. Apparently, even though this representative guy would be reliable, he's kind of "sketchy". Basically. Gilbert and his brother will be watching us too if I don't find a guardian fast enough. If that wasn't stressful enough to worry about, I still had to study for my finals! This year, my grades took a nose dive. If I don't do well on the finals, my GPA will only get worse! And it's not like there was anyone I could talk to. How would I be able to explain anything? I don't even know what's going on anymore..

When the lunch bell tolled at school, I grabbed my textbooks and darted for the cafeteria door. Like always, I was pretty close to last, and like always, I got whatever food was left. In this case, only the muffin, milk, about 4 cookies and chicken nuggets had survived the previous feeding frenzy. Now there's no chance for them, because I was starving and stressed. My best friend, Lucille, was motioning for me to come over to the table, so I did. For some reason, I just felt like stress-eating and studying, so I pulled out my History book and nibbled on my cookie.

Lucille always noticed when I was upset, because I tended to stress-eat. She noticed everything about me, and she showed it too. Today, I just wasn't feeling like talking, so silently I scarfed the rest of the food on the blue tray and left the cafeteria.

"You're acting like that one kid," she said when she finally caught up to me.

"Who?"

Her shoulders bopped up and down as she shrugged. "You know, that one kid you don't like. Thomas?" she explained, with one half of her face pulled up into a half smile.

"He's not that bad!" I exclaimed defensly, but guilt started to seed in my mind about how badly I'd gossip about him.

"It doesn't matter if you do or not, but you're acting like him. Readin' all the time, you know. Are you sure you're alright?" She added.

All I did was nod and go to my next class, even if I was way too early. There was too much on my mind to socialize. Not to mention, I still had my math, science, AND language final to worry about... There was only 3 days left of class!


	5. Chapter 5

School had went and gone like a dream; it seemed so long, but in reality it's not. As it always is, the end of school was tearful as we exchanged our yearbooks, relaxing as we watched subject-appropriate movies, and bittersweet when the bell rang for the last time in the school year. Nothing new, nothing particularly special.

My suitcase had already stripped bare my dressers. It's been so long that I cleaned out my drawers that I totally forgot that the bottoms of it was a different color than the outside of it!

Why couldn't of Mom joined me here, someone could ask. It was an eligible question; Thomas asked the same thing. Well, apparently she decided that the situation came from God, and she decided God didn't want her to come. And of course, the will of God overrides the safety of her own daughter. Personally I think she just doesn't want to ride on the airplane anymore, because that's ridiculous.

In three days, I'll be Russia for a lot of the summer vacation. It really didn't seem as long as it sounds; we have an all-year-round school calendar, and we let out in June. Even so, it still felt like a long time. All I can hope for is that the place has wifi...

I was considering taking along my swimsuit, since Russia can be really hot, but I don't think it would matter much.


	6. Chapter 6

For the entirety of the car ride to the airport, my mom and I spoke in complete and utter silence. The realization that I really would be alone sharply sunk into my skin. It was scary. I didn't want to go to Russia anymore, not without Mom.

Actually, I was lying right there. Once the airport came into view, I turned to mom. "You can still come," I begged, but she shook her head. Getting desperate, I tried again. "Isn't it safer for your only daughter?! Plus, you could see Dad!"

Her eyes followed into mine, shiny with tears. "Honey, a child is like clay, and a parent is the sculptor. Our purpose is to make a successful person to serve in society. I would do anything... Anything, to see your father again, but you need to learn to be independent. Going with you may just make you too soft of clay to work with, and I want to make you a beautiful woman."

"Wouldn't that make me too hard of clay?"

"No, you're fine."

Hot tears sprang to my eyes as I whispered, "Don't go and leave me alone, Mommy..." My throat was aching from the lump forming in it. All that was going through my mind was worried thoughts, worried thoughts.

Know how when the car slows down, you just know that you're at your destination? Yeah, that's what I felt. Through closed eyes, I felt my mother stop, and I knew exactly where I was. It was time to go.

Spotting Gilbert was easy; there wasn't too many red-eyed people that had a canary yellow bird following closely behind.

As soon as Mom spotted him, she pecked me on the cheek and grabbed my shoulders. "Be good. Call me as soon as you get there." she instructed.

Pulling my suitcase turned out to be a lot harder than I thought it would be, but I definitely didn't pack a lot! Somehow I couldn't exactly lift it, so Gilbert had to.

"Oof! What in the world did you pack in zis? Bricks?!" he grunted as he dragged

"Shut up." Out of the corner of my eye, I could see my mom's car disappear. I missed home already.


	7. Chapter 7

It takes a super long time to get to the Russian airport. I think Gilbert described the 10 hours and 30 minutes getting there as "boring and unawesome." You could tell he's been on lots and lots of long rides, because he pretty much kept to himself.

I did talk to him a little bit, and I found out Ludwig really _was_ his brother, and he absolutely hates the guy that I'm staying at. He even bragged that seeing him makes him vomit. Not exactly the greatest thing to be proud of, but hey. Whatever floats your boat.

I kind of felt bad about not saying goodbye to all my friends, and I felt even worse about practically abandoning my crush. What if he fell in love with some other equally cool girl over Summer and they have cool babies and then I'll hug him for the first time as a congratulatory hug at their cool wedding and then I'll die with a bunch of sad, totally un-cool cats? That would suck!

Thomas, on the other hand, I wasn't feeling too upset about. He was totally freaking out about me. For some reason, he was convinced that Gilbert and Ludwig was from his stupid anime show. He wanted me to send him a picture of Ivan, the Russian that I'm staying at, and permission to write about all this. I said no, because that's just weird. The boy was smart, granted, but I was beginning to wonder if he had a few screws loose.

"You look upset," Gilbert noticed, as I was daydreaming about babysitting the dreaded cool children produced from my crush's possible lover. I gave him a dirty look.

"I don't want you here," I lied, but he just shrugged.

"Me niezer, but my bruder made me."

Raising a brow, I smirked, "That makes two of us."

There was an awkward silence that lengthened to about 2 minutes. My poor attention span was about to give out until Gilbert finally muttered begrudgingly, "Sorry about taking your money. It vas totally unawesome."

"Quite honestly I think you'd be totally fine if you took some poor teenager's money," I said in a low, speculating voice, "The only reason you're sorry is because you have to come with me."

Once he heard me, he gave me a short laugh. "Ja, maybe. How do you know I would not be convulsing wiz guilt of taking some poor teenager's money?"

"You don't seem like the kind of person that would feel guilty over that," I answered simply.

He didn't reply, so he was reading a book in German. I don't know German, but I know a little bit of Russian (I brought a translation book too, just in case) in preparation for the trip. The agony of boredom was beating on my neck like the sun would in the desert. I checked my phone's clock. 6 hours to go. I'm going to die of boredom, possibly old age on this dang plane.

"Hey! My awesomeness should be awakening you anytime now!"

I woke up to Gilbert shaking me, but I wasn't even aware that I had fallen asleep. Looking down, I noticed I somehow spawned a cup water into my hand, but I was too tired to deal with it. "Ah, there you go. You fell asleep," he said. However, I just rolled over and turned my back towards him.

"Let me sleep," I slurred drowsily. Within minutes, I fell back asleep with ease. The noise of the other passengers rambling was perfect white noise to me.

The next time I woke up, it was because somehow icy, freezing cold water was all over my lap. Gilbert was in hysterics.

"What happened?!" I demanded.

"Some attendant went and gave you water when you half-asleep, and you held it in your hand the whole time!" he giggled.

"Then why is it all over my jeans?!"

"I don't know, you just dumped it all over yourself!" he snickered. I felt my cheeks warm up with embarrassment.

"You should of woken me up and told me!" I scolded. This was returned with another fit of hysterical laughter.

"I _did_ try and wake you up! You did this to yourself!" he breezily laughed.

'Oh yeah, he did...' I thought bitterly. So this was _my _fault, not his? Great.

Luckily, an attendant noticed my distress and gave me a towel to soak up the ice water the best I could, but my jeans were still wet and uncomfortable.

"I'm glad you had fun laughing at me," I grumbled.

"Ze awesome Pr- I mean, Gilbert vould never spill vater all over himself," he smirked back. I made sure I rolled my eyes so he'd know that was stupid.

At the airport, I was told that Ludwig would already be there, since he took an earlier flight. It would be easy to spot him too, I guess. He was pretty handsome, after all. The anxiety and anticipation of getting the Russian representative's house was leaving my bones feeling hollow and my head dry. My heart couldn't stop beating crazily against my ribcage. I had to stop thinking about this, or my heart might explode.

An eternity later, the plane finally slowed to a stop. Shakily, I rose to my feet, and gasped I left the airplane and waltzed to the Russian airport with my luggage. There was vodka. Everywhere. And I don't mean there was just a few stores with it. It was _everywhere. _There was more vodka than anybody could ever possibly drink, and more vodka than I think I would of seen in my life time. Did the shop owners _expect _the tourists to think Russia is some Vodka chugging country?

Actually, tourists do expect that, now that I think about it.

When Gilbert caught up to me, he groaned loudly. "Just like Russia," he muttered to himself, but I couldn't catch it exactly.

Ludwig found us before we found him, probably because we were still ogling over how much freaking vodka there was. Seriously, it was a lot.

Outside, I was surprised by the change in the atsmosphere. Inside the airport, it seemed a lot safer than outside. There wasn't too many cars around either, which was actually a nice change compared to the bustling and hustling of American highways. Since we were outside an airport, finding a taxi was pretty easy. It wasn't an "official" taxi, notheneless, but whatever. They're usually cheaper, anyway.

Once we got to Ivan's house, my jaw hung loose at the sight of it. It was _huge, _and_ tall. _He must of been stinkin' rich, no wonder how he had enough room for all of us! Right outside the door, the Russian flag waved lightly at the wind. Huh, I guess the guy must be patriotic. The house was done in a Russian style, and was a creamy marble white too. I got my luggage again, and nervously went for the door. I rose my hand to the front of the door, which was obviously painted over white to get rid of some stains. My hand stayed there, inches away from the door, hesitating to knock. Finally, I gathered enough courage, and racked my knuckles against the door.

Immediately, the door opened.


	8. Chapter 8

n the doorway was an extremely tall man. He was wearing a light brown trench coat and a long scarf, even though the weather was actually nice. His hair was kind of a beachy blonde and was brushed to the right. He had a nose a bit too big for his face, but it didn't make him look too bad. I assumed it was Ivan.

"Hallo, da!" he said with a small smile, "You can come in now."

I did exactly that. For some reason, I got the idea that I wouldn't really want to mess with him too much. A gentle person's anger is something not to mess with, after all. I've pushed plenty of gentle people to their limits to know that.

Once inside, I saw the house was just as pretty as it is outside. The curtains was a vivid cerise color, which is a reddish pink. And they weren't 5 dollar curtains that you get from Walmart, let me tell you that. The walls were plastered with flowery wallpaper. It's not particularly my style, but eh. I could live with it. The couch was one of those classical old lady couch, complete with golden tassels at the arms of the couch. That definitely was not my style, but whatever. It was his house, he could do whatever he wanted to do with it.

Ludwig and Prussia weren't too far behind me. Their greetings weren't so polite; all they got has, "Hello."

Once everyone got settled in the house, Ivan made a big clap with his hands and smiled. "Okay," he said, and pointed at me, "Your room is the room with the brown walls, second room to the right. Gilbert, you have the room across from it, and Ludwig, you have the one next to his."

Well, the walls seemed more tan than they did brown when I walked in. I laid down my bag and opened all the dressers up, and started unpacking. Halfway through, a yellow bird landed on my PJ's. I let out a chuckle, and picked him up. Well, Mom always told me never to pick up birds because of germs, but this guy always hangs around Gilbert. He must be a clean bird. It made me wonder what kind of bird he was. I thought chicken, maybe, but they can't fly as much as this avian does. Whatever, I'll look it up later.

As soon as I had put all my clothes in it's respective places, I carefully walked to my bed holding the bird. Then, I started to carefully pet the bird, just for fun. His feathers were soft and downy, like a long-haired cat. He chirped happily as I pet him, and I could feel my cheeks warm. He was so cute I could scream! Every now and then, he'd blissfully close his small black eyes.

Then, Gilbert burst in my room, which startled both me and the bird. "Ah! That's where he went!" he exclaimed, and panted.

"Who?" I asked.

He nodded towards the bird resting in my hand. "Gilbird," he answered.

"You seriously named your own pet after yourself?" I said with a mocking edge.

"Vell, my name is pretty sexy," he smirked, "Vhy not?" Once again, I rolled my eyes.

"He just came in my room," I said as I gave back Gilbird, "He's pretty cute."

"Zank you," he said, and quickly left my room.

_'Geez, what's his problem?' _I thought angrily.

Boots clicked loudly down to my door, and Ivan pooped his head outside the door. "I made something American in case you're hungry," he said.

"Um, no thanks. I'm not hungry," I said. Gilbert gave me a death stare from his own room, as if he couldn't believe I just said that.

"Ah, okay," Ivan nervously purled, "What's your name?"

"Skylar Thomas," I answered calmly.

"Okay, Skylar. Bye."

For now, my room was quiet and I was undisturbed. Even though I slept earlier on the plane, I still could feel the jet lag wearing down on me. My eyelids was heavy, as if I hadn't slept in weeks. It wasn't like I had anything planned, so I let myself fall into the clutches of sleep.

When I finally woke up, it was 5 in the morning. Great. Instinctively, I went to check my phone. Nobody texted me though, not even my friends. Then again, they probably weren't even up yet. The time in America is different, right? It's probably a more reasonable hour or something. I don't know, I don't care enough to wonder what time they're socializing at.

There wasn't anybody up at all. Certainly, it was peaceful, but there was also a certain loneliness to this place. I know I wouldn't want to live here alone, that's for sure.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed. Somehow, the vibration of the phone created a super creepy aura in the house. When I checked it, I realized it was Thomas.

_"Don't know if you're awake. Your Stephenie friend got her phone taken away, she wanted me to tell you tht she's totally weird about you and it sucks about you mom,"_ It read. Then my phone vibrated again. He was a "multi-messages-to-get-the-point-across" kind of texter.

_"*worried, not weird,_" he corrected himself. I felt myself grin. It was funny talking to Thomas, but how was he talking to my friend?

_"How are you talking to Stephanie?"_ I replied, but almost immediately he texted back.

_"Ah, you're awake. I read her diary whilst she slept in the safety of her home,"_ it read, and then vibrated again, _"I'm in Summer Gym with her now. She wants a Russian Doll,"_

_"Ok."_ I sent back.

_"You should be pretty grateful that I am sacrificing the life of my phone just so I can exchange few words of the needs and wants of your greatest friends as I exercise in summer Band,"_ he said. It made me grin cheekily at a phone screen.

_"I'm in Russia now." _I texted.

_"Oh yes get the Russian doll,"_ he buzzed. Once again, I couldn't help but grin.

_"Gotcha. Go exercise with my friend," _I typed back and sent.

When I looked at the clock again, it read "5:23." At least texting killed some time.

At 6, Ludwig got up. How do I know? His alarm went off, and he ended up leaving for a jog at 6:25. I guess he wants to stay fit. By 6:40, he was back and finally noticed I was up too.

"Vhat are jou doing?" He asked. It occured to me this was one of the first times he's spoken to me since they came to my house.

"Sitting," I replied. If he wasn't going to talk much, neither will I!

"Ja, I can tell. Aren't you doing to do something productive?"

"Nope," I said cheekily.

"Alright, suit yourself," he sighed, started for the door of his bedroom.

For some reason, seeing him start for his door made me somehow inspirational. It was weird. I held my hands to my mouth and called out, "Wait!"

"Ja?"

"Do you have anything you want me to do?" I asked him. Maybe I could cook. Yeah, that's a good idea.

The air got really awkward as he was thinking, but as soon as an idea came to him, he nodded, "Ja, I could think of something you can do."


	9. Chapter 9

Okay, it was a baaaad idea to ask Ludwig to find something for me to do. He made me run 20 laps around the house, which sucked. I hate running. I hate it more than I hate fish, and I hate fish very much.

All I wanted was to slip back in bed, but I couldn't. Apparentally while I was doing the "running" thing, Ivan had slipped into my room and stole all my bedsheets. I can't sleep in a naked bed, it just makes me feel too weird. That's weird. Of course, he probably was just trying to be nice, but there's a time and place for everything. 7:00 in the morning was not the time.

Ivan was relatively quiet around me. When I waddled back inside, he said that I could have the stuff from last night. The "American" thing he made was a hamburger, which didn't really surprise me. Oh well. It wasn't really too bad, compared to the dry patties I normally eat. Ketchup was a staple to Mom's food, mainly because it was so dry.

After I ate the burger, I decided to flop onto the couch. "You look tired," he said, and sat down next to me.

"Yeah," I sighed. Beside me, Ivan pulled out knitting needles and began knitting a gigantic section of soft blue yarn.

"It's for my sister," he explained after he noticed me looking at the stringed mass.

"You have a sister?" I asked.

"Yah, I have two sisters. They all used to live here like one big family, but now they've moved away," he said sadly, looking at the needles.

Well, that's pretty depressing. "What's their names?" I asked.

"Natasha, and Irunya Cherenko."

"That sounds pretty," I said.

"Yeah, it's very pretty. We don't get along anymore, though. My sister Irunya isn't allowed to see me, and Natasha is sort of a creep."

"So, they moved out?"

"Yeah," he said slowly.

There was another awkward pause, and it was made more awkward by my phone ringing. "Sorry," I muttured under my breathe, and ducked into the bathroom.

"HI, HONEY!" Mom practically screamed out of my phone speaker. Why was she being so loud? Does being in another country mean you have to speak louder for people to understand?

"Hi.." I said weakly under my breath.

"**WAS THE PLANE RIDE FUN?!"** she boomed.

"Yes. Stop yelling, you'll blow my speaker." I sighed.

"**_I'M YELLING BECAUSE I'M IN A LOUD PLACE AND I WANT YOU TO HEAR ME!"_**Mom continued screaming.

"I can hear you fine. Where are you?"

"**I DON'T SEE ANY HAIR ON ME, SWEETIE! WHERE'D YOU GET THAT IDEA? YOU KNOW YOUR FATHER ALWAYS SAYS NOT TO ASSUME THEM THINGS! DID YOU DRINK YOUR MILK?"**

**"**YES I'M FINE," I replied, frustrated. Was she in a bar?!

"**_GREAT! BYE!"_**Suddenly, the line went dead.

It didn't take long to realize, what was happening back home might get very bad, very quick.


	10. Chapter 10

I stood in the bathroom, blankly staring at my iPhone.

Why was Mom in a bar? Why did she decide to call me? Was she drunk, or high?

**_'Maybe she felt bad for you,' _**Kevin sang.

Shut up, Kevin. I have enough problems without a voice in my head that needs a serious attitude check.

I finally got the nerve to leave the bathroom, but to my surprise, Gilbert was already there.

"Geez, I need to pee. Vhat took vou so long?" he said, "Vhere vou pretending to be England and play Magical Fairy?" Suddenly, his eyes widened when he realized what he said. With a loud slap to his mouth, he cried, "I mean, not England!"

"What?" I asked.

"N-nien. Let me haf an awesome pee time," he nervously rambled and shoved me out of the bathroom.

"Countries can't be people, stupid!" I angrily yelled, and stormed to my room. From my room, I could hear Gilbert manically giggling. He must be having a heck of a time playing firefighter in the bathroom.

Then, my phone buzzed. Again. I was a popular, popular girl today. Geez. Just as I was about to check my spunky new message from some unknown soul from beyond, my phone sputtered one last breath and died. Since my dear mobile device was now useless, I tossed my phone on the bed. I'll charge it later. Besides, this was an excellent opportunity to explore my room further.

In my room, there was a bookshelf. A quick glance revealed that there was mostly history books in it, about several different countries. He really had it all! There was England, China, Japan, Canada, America, Germany, Lithuania, Italy, France, and there were some I didn't really know well, like Seborga, Prussia, Sealand, Belarus, and the Republic of Wy. I guess Mr. Ivan really likes his history.

Just for laughs and giggles, I pulled the big, dusty English History book out of its place and leaped on my bed. Once I tease Gilbert about reading alll about England just for him, he'd have to give me some slack.

Besides, I never really gave thought to the origin of the UK. It was always just there, like some God. Now that I have the resources, and some time to kill, I seem like a smartypants around Ivan. He seems like one of the kids I'd tease back home.

I comfortably lied down on my bed and opened the book. When I looked down on the first page, I was overcome with confusion.

Right there, on the first page, was a loose picture of a man. It was obviously a cut out. Somehow, I got the feeling it was supposed to be a reminder, but how could it?

The man on the picture looked like a real sourpuss. He had the largest eyebrows I ever seen, and my grandpa has some pretty crazy eyebrows. Actually, my dear Grandpa's caterpillars brows had nothing on this guy. I'm not even kidding, it looked like giant black hairy snakes. His hair was a bright yellow shade of a blonde, and was shagy and unkempt. However, his eyes were this beautiful emerald green color. Overall, he looked pretty attractive. At least, he probably WOULD, if he used tweezers. The dude probably never heard the noun in his life, the poor soul.

But why was it in the history book?

After debating it some, I decided Ivan probably had an old friend and was using his picture as a book mark. I mean, I've done it before. There's something satisfying about slamming two masses of heavy paper on a face that did you wrong. So, I went and cracked open the first section of the book. For my pastor's sake, I skipped the section on cavemen.

_"The end of Roman rule in Britain enabled the Anglo-Saxon settlement of Britain, which is often regarded as the origin of England and the English people. The Anglo-Saxons, a collection of various Germanic peoples, established several kingdoms that became the primary powers in what is now England and parts of southern Scotland. They introduced the Old English language, which replaced the previous British language. The Anglo-Saxons warred with British successor states in Wales, Cornwall, and the Hen Ogledd (Old North; the Brythonic-speaking parts of northern England and southern Scotland), as well as with each other. Raids by the Vikings were frequent after about AD 800, and the Norsemen took control of large parts of what is now England. During this period several rulers attempted. to unite the various Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, an effort that led to the emergence of the Kingdom of England by the 10th century,_" I read along the old pages. As I read, it became clear that most of England's history was a bunch of conquering. They even named people after it. There's this guy named "_William the Conquerer_." Talk about impressive titles on unimpressive names. Julius Caesar? That sounds cool. William? Not so much..

Soon I delved deep into the history book, totally immersed in the British obsession with conquering and revolting. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

"Skyla? I made some Russian food if you are hungry," Ivan said, peering in.

Was it already noon? In shock, my eyes drifted to the clock. It read 1:34. Past my normal lunch. How could time pass so fast?!

"Uh, sure," I answered, and slid the snake-browed man's picture into the English book. I can always finish later.

"What're you reading?" Ivan asked as I followed him to the dining room.

"Just a book on England. It's a joke for Gilbert," I replied mischievously.

"What kind of joke is it?" Ivan asked awkwardly.

"You know, a teasing joke," I said, and moved around my hands to emphasize the words _"Teasing joke"_

"Ah, that sounds fun," Ivan said softly. A small grin was plastered on his face, but it looked more like a desperate grin someone wore when they wanted to continue an awkward conversation rather than a silly one you'd wear in the situation someone was explaining an inside joke. Eek. That was way too specific of a sentence.

"Yeah," I said flatly. Finally, we had reached the dining. There, I saw the most amazing food I had ever seen. It was a work of art. Ludwig and Gilbert were already stuffing their faces in it, like slobs.

Men.

After I got my plate, I happily walked over to Gilbert. But before I sat down, I looked a little bit yonder. There, I saw poor Ivan sitting all alone in the living room.

The sight made my heart twig a little. He probably needed a friend, and it didn't seem he had many. With a change of heart, I picked up my plate and walked over to Ivan.

"Hi," I grinned, and sat down at the couch.

"You aren't going to sit with Gilbert to make teasing jokes?" Ivan asked, with his brows high and his violet eyes wide.

"Nope, I think I'll tease you for today instead," I replied cheerfully. "You knitting nanny."

His face lit up. It was an emotion I didn't recognize, but it did light up.

**SORRY ABOUT TAKING A MONTHS BREAK! I was sure no one read this, so I kinda bummed myself out. I had ideas, but I didn't think it was worth writing until someone asked me about this! Sorry!**


End file.
